Dean clicked on the link feeling the same low buzz of shame and arousal he always felt when he surfed porn sites like these; when he skimmed through the photos until he found a guy who looked enough like his younger brother for him to get off the way he only ever had with Sam. Dean knew his feelings for Sam were fucked up; their whole lives were fucked up. Hunting monsters wasn't something normal families did. The typical suburban mom-mobile didn't carry an arsenal in the trunk, but the Winchesters did. Most dads taught their kids how to catch a football, not how to salt and burn a corpse or hustle pool. Nothing about the Winchesters was normal, so the fact that Dean and Sam ended up finding some dysfunctional comfort in each other's beds was pretty tip of the iceberg.
Unfortunately for Dean, Sam wanted normal. He craved a safe, stable life with books and friends, not one that involved constantly moving from one shitty motel to the next, taking orders from their distant father, chasing gore and death to their inevitable end. In rejecting that life, it meant that he had also rejected Dean, which was to be expected, Dean supposed. Pretty hard to be a straight-laced college boy and also a brother fucker.
Dean hadn't seen Sam much after he left for Stanford, especially when he started working summers instead of meeting Dean at Bobby's. Sam had always upheld a certain level of contact through phone calls and email, but Dean hadn't heard from Sam in months. He hadn't been able to reach Sam since he pulled his brother out of the burning apartment the night Jess died. Sam had come with him after the incident, acting like he was going to join Dean to track down their father. He'd let Dean hold him as he cried himself to sleep that night, but Sam snuck out before dawn, leaving a scrawled "Sorry" on a piece of motel stationary, and Dean was more alone than ever. When Dean returned to Stanford to look for Sam, he found out Sam had withdrawn from all his classes and skipped town.
In his darker moments, on long nights like these that led him to the far reaches of his willpower, Dean wallowed in his failings; in the loss of his brother, and found solace in the photos of long-limbed young men like those on .
He buzzed past the '18+' warnings and scrolled through the gallery. Most of the good stuff was in the members' section, but he couldn't bring himself to charge gay porn even to his false credit card identities. Plus, it was the kind of red-flag the credit card companies looked out for and he tried to keep the charges he made within certain guidelines. Regardless, there was normally plenty of free content to get him where he needed to be before the pain pulled him under again and he drank himself to sleep, becoming more and more like his father every day. The petite blonde twinks that were most prominent didn't do anything for him, and Dean always had to look a little deeper to find someone who really resembled his Sammy enough to let him pretend. There were a couple potentials - a beautiful back here, long, slim legs there - but there was always something missing. He was about four pages in when a mop of chestnut hair caught his attention and he sat up sharply in his chair. He held his breath as he clicked the thumbnail and felt a sudden surge of arousal deep in his belly as the window opened featuring everything his heart - and dick - desired.
The guy in the photo had his head turned away from the camera, so Dean couldn't see his face, but he had the most beautiful honey-tanned skin, broad shoulders that narrowed into the perfect V at his waist, and a firm, round ass Dean wanted to grope and lick and fuck. He pulled his boxers down with his left hand and then used it to start gently stroking his aching cock as he continued to click through the photos labelled 'Alex'. He'd had to become ambidextrous when he discovered internet porn and the new agility had actually come in handy once or twice during a hunt. Dean had just smirked when his father had complimented his new skills as a southpaw. He clicked through the photos slowly, drinking in every image, absorbing the lines and angles and fantasizing that it really was Sam's body he was admiring.
The closer he looked, the easier it was to imagine it was his younger brother in the photos. This kid looked so much like Sam it made Dean dizzy with sense memory. He could imagine exactly how it would feel to run his hands over that smooth, warm skin; the sounds he could drive from that long throat with three fingers buried deep inside that beautiful ass; the sweet, musky taste of his come lapped up from that ridged abdomen. Fuck. Dean zoomed in on the best photo: a full body shot of Alex lying on his stomach on a couch, his face tucked between his bent elbows.
Dean spat into his right hand and started stroking faster. There was nothing of finesse in these sessions. It was just about getting off hard, about filling the void for a few sweet moments of bliss before reality came crashing back in. He rolled his balls lightly in his left hand as he felt his orgasm coming on, biting his lip as he jacked his cock frantically then painted his stomach in streaks of come.
When his breathing caught up with him, Dean wiped himself off with his t-shirt and dropped it on the floor, pulled his boxers up, and studied the screen. Normally at this point he closed the browser, drank a large whiskey, and tried to shower off his aching loneliness along with his ejaculate. Something held him anchored in place this time. He clicked through the gallery again and his breath caught in his chest. There. That birthmark bisected by that scar. Holy shit. 'Alex' was Sam. Dean stared at the photo that had given it all away, the unique mark on his thigh that only Sam could have exactly there. Dean held his breath and clicked the link that read, 'Request Private Chat.'
Dean didn't hear back from Alex until the following evening when he got an email with an appointment time and a link to a private chat room. He cracked his knuckles nervously and checked his watch. He had forty five minutes to kill so he tried researching his current case, but found he was even more distracted than usual. After ten frustrating minutes he finally gave up and returned to the Alex gallery on the website, studying every photo in minute detail and reacquainting himself with the body he'd once known almost as intimately as his own. He logged into the chat room several minutes early with the name Eddie (he figured he'd be the more famous Van Halen brother if Sam was using Alex) and was pleasantly surprised when a message chimed.
Alex: Hey there.
Eddie: Hey yourself.
Alex: Nice to hear from you. Have we chatted before?
Eddie: No, I'm new. Actually, I've never done this.
(Dean wasn't lying. He felt completely out of his element. What the fuck was he doing?)
Alex: Oh really? I promise to go easy on you. ;)
Eddie: Heh. Okay.
(Dean tried desperately to think of something to say, but all his brain could come up with was, "Sammy, it's Dean. Please come back. I need you!" Probably not his strongest opener. Thankfully Alex saved him).
Alex: So you were looking at my photos. Did you like what you saw?
Eddie: How could I not? You're, um, (Dean paused then decided to go for it) you're really hot.
Alex: :) You're making me blush. Thank you, Eddie. Did you have a favorite part?
Eddie: Um, no. I liked all of it. All of you. I wish I could touch you.
Alex: Thanks, Eddie. That sounds hot. Tell me, did you touch yourself while you were looking at me? Did I make you hard?
(Dean swallowed hard. Fuck. He was hard as nails already. He adjusted himself in his jeans).
Eddie: Fuck, yeah.
Alex: Did you come, Eddie? Did you cream yourself looking at my naked ass? Thinking about all the things you wanted to do to it?
Eddie: Yeah. I came so hard. Haven't come that hard in years. All for you.
Alex: Hey, thanks, Eddie. I like to hear that. Like to think about you with come all over you, just from looking at me.
(A timer popped up on the screen, telling Dean they were nearly out of time).
Alex: Listen, Eddie. These chats are only five minutes so we're almost out of time. I'd love to talk to you more, though. We could even do a video chat so we could see each other. We could talk. You could even watch me touch myself, maybe imagining that it's your hands on my body. I'd really like that. Would you like that too?
(Dean wasn't naïve; he knew the sales pitch had been coming. He also knew without a doubt that he wasn't going to turn down any offer Sam made. He had to see Sam. Had to hear his voice. His credit cards were just gonna have to take the hit).
Eddie: Yeah. I'd like that a lot.
Dean followed the instructions Alex sent him and broke out the card he'd been saving for a really special occasion. He mostly just liked seeing it in his wallet; he couldn't believe the card company had actually issued it. Even though he knew he was sacrificing the card for the best possible cause, he frowned a little regretfully as he filled in the online form with the number, fake billing address and finally entered the name: Inigo Montoya.
While he waited for his confirmation email, Dean angled his webcam so it was aimed squarely at his chest, making sure none of his face was visible as he moved his head around. He spotted his necklace on the screen so he slipped it off, gave the amulet a squeeze in his palm, and put it in the pocket of his jeans. There was no way he was letting Sam know it was him because he needed his brother to stay put so he could figure out where Sam was. The company website gave a mailing address in San Diego, but Dean didn't know if that's where Sam would be webcasting from, since he could really be anywhere. Dean chewed his lower lip nervously, then decided to brush his teeth, despite how ridiculous that was, before sitting back at the table. He hit the refresh button on his inbox exactly seventeen times before the email came through. Dean took a big breath and clicked the link.
When the new guy agreed to the private video chat, Sam smiled ruefully to himself as he stood up from his computer and stretched his aching muscles. He knew he shouldn't complain; he got paid so much more for these sessions than the text chat but he was sore from surfing and yoga, and would have been happy to have a quiet night rather than putting on a show. He put his game face on, though, since this job was what supported him living in a nice apartment so close to the beach in a city as far away from the darkness and drama of his former life as he could find. Sam arranged his toys where they'd be visible to the camera and within easy reach, and when he saw the confirmation code come through to his monitor, he grabbed the lube and started prepping his hole. The new guys always wanted him to go for it with the dildos way faster than Sam could comfortably warm up during the chat so he'd learned to plan ahead.
His small but bright apartment was set up with a remote controlled 3-camera arrangement and a large monitor that he could see from the couch he used for many of his sessions. When the new guy - Eddie, he had to remember to call him Eddie - popped up in his 'ready to chat' window Sam chuckled to himself. The guy clearly didn't know how to set up his webcam and had pointed it at his chest rather than his face. That said, the chest looked pretty good in Eddie's plain grey henley, which was a very pleasant surprise. Most of Alex's chat clients didn't look nearly that good; it sometimes took a lot of work to keep up the dirty talk about how much he wished it was their hands on his body. That didn't seem like it was gonna be a challenge tonight.
He watched Eddie for a few minutes to get a sense of his personality before they started as he got the recording equipment set up. There was something vaguely familiar about how the guy nervously rubbed his hands on his thighs. Maybe he had chatted with this guy before and he'd forgotten? Sam let go of the thought, shook his shoulders, jumped up and down a few times to get energized, and then opened the chat window. "Hey Eddie." Sam flashed one of his killer smiles, knowing exactly how to wield his dimples for best effect. "So great to meet you, but you're gonna have to adjust your camera. I can't see your face."
Dean's heart started pounding so hard in his chest when Sam's face appeared on his screen that he could barely understand what that beautiful mouth was saying. He had to tuck his hands under his thighs to prevent himself from reaching out to touch the monitor and looking like a complete weirdo. He took a few slow, shaky breaths and tried to decipher Sam's words. He frowned thoughtfully as he finally understood. Sam he was talking about Dean's webcam. He thought Eddie didn't know how to angle it correctly. Dean typed his response.
Eddie: Hey, sorry, but I don't want to show my face. I don't want the company to be able to use my recorded image for anything.
"Eddie," Sam laughed, "you don't have to worry; they wouldn't do that. I'd really like to see you. You've got a very nice body from what I can see and I'm sure your face is at least as nice. Could I at least have a peek?" He tilted his head and pursed his lips flirtatiously.
Eddie: Yeah, no. You've got to know that porn companies aren't always the most ethical in their business practices…
Sam laughed uncomfortably. "Well, I can't hear you either. Could you turn on your mic so I can at least listen to your sexy voice?" Dean knew that was a no-go. Unless he used some sort of voice filter that made him sound like a movie kidnapper, Sam would recognize his voice in seconds. He also didn't trust himself not to call Sam by his real name if they were speaking.
Eddie: Sorry, my mic's broken. Stupid old laptop is pretty close to done but she's all I got.
A brief bitchface crossed Sam's features before he composed them. Dean knew that he didn't believe for a second that Eddie's mic was broken, and that familiar expression, so quintessentially Sam, made Dean's heart ache. Fuck. He even missed Sam being pissed at him. Sam was clearly thrown by Eddie's paranoia but he was trying really hard to roll with it. Sam shook his head gently and smiled a little tightly. "Okay, a man of mystery. I like it. Are you some sort of celebrity or secret agent that needs to keep his identity secret?" Sam winked.
Hey! That was Dean's move. He couldn't believe baby brother was stealing from his playbook.
Dean felt kind of bad for Sam, despite the blatant move theft. He could see how hard it was for Sam to keep up his chipper, flirty persona when Dean was blocking him from the very start, but he was really hoping Sam would be able to get over it quickly. He was desperate to talk to Sam and was so thankful to see that face for the first time in so many months. Sam looked good. He looked healthy: tanned and relaxed (except for the fact that Eddie was clearly weirding him out a little). It filled Dean with relief to see his baby brother doing so well. Dean felt an entirely different emotion when Sam stepped back from the camera to get his whole torso visible on the screen.
Fuck. Sam looked more than good. Sam looked fucking amazing. He'd filled out even more since the website's gallery photos were taken. He was wearing a thin, white, cotton tank top that his pert nipples poked through, and his shoulders were so much broader and muscular than Dean remembered. Dean could tell he was deliberately flexing a little to show off his bulging biceps but Dean didn't mind for a second. Sammy was gorgeous.
Sam smiled a little shyly, tilting his head and looking through his bangs at the camera. He traced one fingertip along the neckline of the tank and puckered his lips a little in a cheesy 'blue steel' that shouldn't send blood surging to Dean's cock the way it did. "Well, Eddie, since you're obviously a man who knows what he wants, maybe you should tell me what you want me to do next. We could chat some more or…" Sam's tone roughened with innuendo and Dean's hand flew to palm himself through his jeans before he realized that Sam could see that movement. Sam flashed a wolfish grin and slowly slid one of his hands down to caress from his pec down his slim waist to his hip.
"Fuuuck," Dean breathed.
Eddie: Why don't you take off your shirt?
Sam smiled. "Okay, Eddie. If that's what you want." He grabbed the back of the top and pulled it easily over his broad shoulders revealing a ridiculously cut torso: well-defined pecs, a 6-pack that Dean yearned to trace with his tongue, and that dip beneath his hipbone Dean remembered rutting against on many an occasion in his teen years. Sam stretched and turned to show off his muscular back before he faced the camera again. "Do you like what you see?"
Eddie: Fuck, yeah. Wow. You're… Fuck. Wow.
That shy grin crossed Sam's features again and he blushed. He actually fucking blushed. Dean bit his lip and watched his younger brother intently, trying to figure out if this was his act or if the compliments really surprised Sam. Sam's arms hung a little awkwardly at his sides before he brushed his hair out of his face. "Okay, Eddie." Sam returned to flirt mode and traced his pink lips with his tongue.
"I went. Now it's your turn. I want you to take your shirt off for me."
Dean shifted awkwardly in his chair. He hadn't expected this. He felt a nervous flutter in his stomach as he pulled the soft cotton over his head, careful not to duck his face into the frame as he settled back against the chair. "Wow, Eddie. You've got a really nice body." Training and hunting kept Dean toned and trim but he was nowhere as muscular as Sam. He felt a little weird that his little brother was so much bigger than him now.
Eddie: Thanks, but there's not really any comparison.
It wasn't like Dean to be humble. He knew he was hot, but he had to give Sammy credit: the kid was fucking gorgeous.
"Don't sell yourself short, Eddie. You're really sexy. I'd love to be running my hands over your chest while we made out. I love kissing and I'll bet you've got a great mouth, Eddie." Sam traced his fingertips along the bottom bow of his mouth, dragging the lower lip down a little before slipping his index finger between his teeth to bite. He slipped that finger into his mouth and sucked it hard, closing his eyes and moaning around the digit. Then he opened his eyes and looked directly into the camera and painted his lips wet and shiny with his saliva.
Dean was mesmerized. He leaned forward a little in his chair to get a closer view, but then noticed his chin dipping into the frame and sat back again. His left hand found his hard cock through his jeans, and he started stroking himself through the fabric unselfconsciously as he watched his brother suckle a finger. He wanted it to be his tongue that was being sucked into Sam's mouth. He loved kissing Sam. They'd spent endless hours making out as teenagers before their physical relationship progressed further and further. But even when they were just desperate to have a quick fuck, they couldn't help but kiss the entire time.
Sam was working that finger shamelessly, his pink tongue sliding out of his open mouth to lave the digits. He traced his wet fingers down his chest to tease one rosy nipple, then the other, making small little sighs that had Dean leaking in his jeans. Sam trailed his fingers over the ridges in his abdomen as he slowly made his way south. He stopped at the waistband of his board shorts and toyed absently with the button. "Anything else you'd like to see, Eddie?" he asked, his voice husky with arousal. Dean moaned aloud as his dick jumped under his hand.
Eddie: Fuck, Alex. You're the hottest thing I've ever seen. My cock is leaking already and you're still wearing most of your clothes.
"Well, we'll have to take care of that little problem, won't we," Sam replied, popping the button, then peeling off his shorts. He was naked underneath and his hard dick popped out and slapped against his flat stomach.
Jesus! Dean was absolutely floored by the sight of a naked Sam on his monitor. Dean had thought Sam was gorgeous even when he was a teenager and a little on the scrawny side for his height. This Sam, though. This man in front of him. This Greek God. This wet dream. Dean couldn't think of any descriptors that weren't cliché, but they were all true. "Sam," he whispered.
"You still there, Eddie," Sam asked when Dean didn't respond, tousling his hair in a familiar nervous tell.
Eddie: Yeah, I'm here. I was just trying to get enough blood into my brain and fingers to be able to type. You're fucking gorgeous. I know you must hear it all the time, but I've never seen anyone as gorgeous as you. Wow. You're perfect.
Sam laughed a little, still kinda shy, despite his porn star job. He was never very good at taking compliments and that had obviously not changed. He was good at redirection, though, and Sam slipped his hand down to stroke his thick cock as he looked directly into the camera, which made Dean squirm in his chair. "Your turn, Eddie. I wanna see what you're packin'."
This part Dean was nervous about. Sam wouldn't be able to recognize his dick, would he? It had been years. And who knows how many dicks Sam had seen since then? That thought stirred something uncomfortable deep in his belly so he pushed it quickly away. Sam was waiting for him, though, so Dean counted on the crappy resolution on his webcam to protect his anonymity and stood up to undo his jeans and drop them and his boxers to the floor. He did a small circle as he kicked the clothing off his feet then sat back down.
"Wow, Eddie. Your body is amazing. That is an incredible ass you've got. And your cock … if I were in the room with you, I'd be on my knees worshipping that cock in a split second. I'd love you to fuck my mouth with that beauty."
Dean thought back to all the times he'd had Sam in that exact position, his fingers fisted in Sam's floppy hair as he fucked deep into his younger brother's welcoming throat. He had to grab the base of his dick in an iron grip to prevent losing his shit right then and there.
Sam obviously recognized the move and chuckled. "Don't want the party to be over too soon, now. But you'd still get to watch." Sam sat down and threw one leg over an arm of the puffy chair as he stroked himself lazily. "Do you want to get off together, Eddie?"
Eddie: More than anything.
They stroked their cocks in tandem, Dean mesmerized by every sound Sam made. He knew many of the moans were put on, but he'd heard Sam enough times in the midst of pleasure to recognize the real gasps and groans. Dean mirrored his brother's sounds and was teetering on the brink of orgasm when Sam spread his legs wider and dipped a finger below his balls to stroke around his dusky pink hole. Dean tugged his balls hard, the slight pain pulling him back from the edge, and he slowed his strokes as he watched Sam's long index finger disappear inside him. Sam worked himself with the finger for a few moments then gestured to the tray of toys beside him.
"Did you want to see me use any of these?" Dean surveyed the colourful array of silicone.
Eddie: Not this time. You've got such big, sexy hands. Just use your fingers.
"This time." Sam arched an eyebrow suggestively. "That means there's gonna be a next time."
Eddie: Guaranteed.
"I like that idea," Sam replied and slipped a second finger inside himself. Then Sam sighed.
All the pain in the world couldn't stop Dean from coming that instant. That sigh was the exact sound Sam used to make when Dean bottomed out inside his tight ass, and it evoked a physical memory that had Dean spraying ropes of hot come across his abdomen. Sam spotted his jerky movements and smiled wickedly as Dean stroked himself through his climax and shuddering aftershocks.
"Fuck, Eddie. I love that I made you come like that. You look so good, your stomach covered in come. I wish I was there and could lick it up." Dean's cock twitched valiantly at that comment and he gasped at the movement of the hypersensitive tissue. "I'm so close, Eddie," Sam continued, his strokes getting faster and faster. "You know what would drive me right over the edge? Make me blow my load all over myself? Lick up some of that come, Eddie. Tell me how it tastes."
Dean exhaled audibly. Fuck. Sam all strung out and teetering on the edge like this was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. He sort of wanted to keep him like that for as long as possible so he took his time as he traced some patterns in the mess that decorated his abdomen before scooping up a large fingerful and sliding it into his mouth. He dipped his chin for a split second so Sam could see the digit disappear into his mouth.
"Ah-ah-" Dean watched in rapt fascination as Sam lost it, shooting creamy strands into the perfect central groove of his six-pack. He cursed himself for not thinking to use his phone to record the sounds Sam made as he came. He'd have to do that next time.
Eddie: Fuck, Alex. You're incredible. I didn't think you could get any hotter, but you look perfect like that. The only way it could be any better is if it was my come all over you.
Sam was sprawled out on the chair jacking himself gently, his prick softening slowly as he panted for breath. He puckered his lips a little and blew the hair out of his eyes, a gesture that made Dean smile and hurt at the same time. "Thanks, Eddie. This was really awesome. I'd love to do it again sometime."
Eddie: How's tomorrow?
Sam chuckled softly. "If you're serious, we can chat at nine tomorrow night."
Eddie: Perfect. I'll talk to you then.
Dean was rewarded with dimples as Sam grinned big. "Okay then. Tomorrow at nine. I'll be dreaming of that gorgeous cock tonight, Eddie. Sleep well." And for the first time in a very long time, Dean did.
